


What Horror Lies Before Us?

by TheJaguar (Spiderboat)



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Body Horror, Death, Gen, Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:15:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiderboat/pseuds/TheJaguar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Behold, the Dark Forest. Run while you can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Horror Lies Before Us?

It's so dark. Rot. It's rotting. Everything is rotting. I'm rotting, my face is rotting, my brother is rotting. It's dark and it's rot and it  _stinks._

Where am I? Why can't I open my mouth? Why don't I have a mouth? Where is it? Where is my mouth?

It's so dark. My brother hangs above me, fox tail wrapped around his neck like a snake, dangling from a tree branch. His guts hang out of his belly, they dangle like he dangles, his blood drips on me. He has no eyes. Where are his eyes?

He's rotting.

"This is endless," my brother gasps as blood pours from his ears. "This is. Endless." Rot. Rot. Bloody, horrible rot.

My skin is peeling. My skin is peeling and my fur is going into my flesh and I'm bleeding and I have no mouth and I can't scream for help. I can't eat. I want to eat. I'm so hungry. I'll eat rot. Rot. It's rotting. I'm rotting.

This is the Dark Forest. The forest is rotting. The trees crumble like fallen, black snow before us. It stinks. It's dark and rotting and it  _stinks._

My paws ooze with pus and I am bound to the grass. My yellow pus burns the grass and it rots. The rot mixes with my pus and it stings. It hurts. It stinks. I can't scream.

My brother looks at me. Where are his eyes? "This is endless."

A cat comes and meets us. His guts are hanging from his split belly. He has eyes. "The Dark Forest is endless," he says. He's got tiger stripes. He's got eyes. He's rotting.

I try to scream but I can't.

I'm rotting. More cats come. They're rotting. Claws and hawks and thistles and broken things and darkness. It's so dark. It stinks. It's  _rotting._

"Be free," the tiger says, his skin peeling from his skull. I see his bones. He loses one eye. He's rotting fast.

The fox tail around my brother's neck falls off and he falls and his pink guts fall onto the black grass, onto my yellow pus. He screams as they melt. I want to scream. I can't. My face is rotting. He has no eyes. Where is my mouth? Where are my eyes?

My eyes. Where are they? It's so dark.

I'm rotting.


End file.
